


silver lining

by imadetheline



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Original Trilogy
Genre: Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, No Incest, Sibling Bonding, bc ew, i was having luke and leia feels, not a happy ending but not quite sad either? idk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-30
Updated: 2021-01-30
Packaged: 2021-03-16 12:47:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,053
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29082609
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/imadetheline/pseuds/imadetheline
Summary: Luke and Leia have suffered so much. They take a moment to let themselves feel the grief they usually keep locked up and take comfort in each other's presence
Relationships: Leia Organa & Luke Skywalker
Comments: 4
Kudos: 20





	silver lining

**Author's Note:**

> as it says in the tags I was having luke and leia feels so now there's this. i have no clue how good it is but please enjoy my 1am nonsense

Luke knows where to find her. Somehow he always knows where to find her. This time, though, it’s more due to his knowledge of her habits than any instinctual feeling.

Their base here is mainly underground, and he knows Leia hates it. She’d never complain, but it’s the complete opposite of the majestic mountains and rolling seas of Alderaan she adores, and he knows, deeply misses. And even if he won’t admit it, he dislikes it too, much more used to the sprawling expanse of a desert than the small halls and confined spaces of the base.

So, of course, she’s sitting a ways away from the base’s entrance under the growing twilight. The planet isn’t much better, all barren rock and dust, but at least it’s not constricting like the twining halls just beneath them.

He nods to the guards by the door as he exits and makes his way towards her silhouette, barely visible through the large boulders. But he knows she’s there, just as surely as she knows he’s walking towards her. And yet Leia makes no move to acknowledge his presence or speak as he comes to stand beside where she’s sitting, overlooking the dropoff to a large expanse of nothing but stone. Pebbles tumble over the edge by his foot, a deafening noise in the silence of their breathing. The stars are widespread and twinkling in the darkening sky, a shade of purple as the last rays of light fade. Strange how the stars never change even though the people orbiting them do. It’s almost comforting knowing life will continue, stubborn as ever, even when they are gone.

Leia pulls her knees to her chest and leans over, her head coming to rest on the side of Luke’s leg, right above his knee, in a display of vulnerability she allows few to see. And together, they watch the light disappear, casting the harsh lines of stone, and their faces, into darkness.

Luke’s never felt closer to someone, more akin in spirit, than to Leia in this moment, as they stay, watching, and for this one moment, let the weight slip off their shoulders. 

She’s a leader of the Rebellion, a former senator, a princess, a wanted rebel. He’s a commander, the pilot that blew up the Death Star, one of the last Jedi. But here, between the stones and sadness, they’re just kids. Just a girl who’s lost her planet, her parents, who has carried the weight of everything since before she can remember. But now she’s lost Han too. And just a boy who’s never known his family, who’s lost friends, who bears the hope of the oppressed in his hands every time he ignites a blue blade. But now he’s lost even that; the blade and some of that hope disappeared in the clouds along with his hand and anything remaining of his youth. All they have left is each other.

And the galaxy seems to know it too, wrapping them in the silence of their emotions, the knowledge that they’ve both woken screaming more times than they can count, that they’ll have to reenter the base and shoulder that weight once again, have to deal with losses and shouted impossible truths. Even here, at the edge of the galaxy, they are not free.

But Leia just lifts her head slightly off Luke’s leg and reaches up for his hand instead, her gaze never leaving the horizon nor the stars painted on it. Luke gives it readily, wrapping her smaller fingers in his as he lowers himself to the rock beside her. It’s rough and uncomfortable, but Leia is a steady presence beside him, her hand warm against his flesh one, and she leans over, resting her head on his shoulder. Luke rests his head against her dark hair and wonders if they’ve ever been free. 

Had Destiny wrapped them in her chains long before they were born? Would she ever let them go? Luke doesn’t know and doesn’t think he’d like to either. 

But places, times, like this make the questions inevitable--moments where time seems to pause, considering, and then continue on as if it had never stopped. But time is made of grief and loss--unstoppable forces. And people are always running after its steady march onward, continually moving. But when time stops, in these in-between moments, so too must they. And even just that pause for breath allows everything to catch up--the grief, the pain, the truth. It slams into them from all sides.

He’s not surprised to recognize the moisture staining his cheeks, and when he glances down at Leia to see her already looking up at him, tears tracing ravines down her skin, he’s not surprised by it either. 

So he does the only thing he can: he wraps his arms around her, and they hold each other: here, far beyond anything they’d ever prepared for, and they grieve.

His skin stings under the onslaught of the night chill, and Leia shivers as they sit there, but neither of them even think of moving. Luke can’t even pinpoint a specific thing they’re mourning. It’s all a myriad of emotions and people and experiences that have built up, gathered over the years, and formed twin pulsing stars of grief in each of their chests, melding together to form one storm around them, inside them.

And unbeknownst to them, the Force wraps around them too, softening the sharp edges of their pain as much as she can even as her grief grows, shields them from detection even as her moment of sorrow makes itself known to every Force-sensitive in the galaxy. These are her blood, and she will not let them suffer alone. 

Somewhere, worlds away, a figure clad in darkness, the Force’s child, trembles and answers the despair with his own, letting it bleed into the Force like a mortal wound. But it is not a plea or an accusation, but rather an act of harmony, of solidarity. And so the Force lets it bleed through her shield, reaching the siblings in her arms, and though they do not understand it, do not recognize it, they know they are not alone. And for now, that is the best the Force can offer to her children. She hopes it is enough.

**Author's Note:**

> found this quote saved in my phone when i was trying to think of a title and i thought i'd share it cause it seemed to fit:
> 
> "Each person’s grief is as unique as their fingerprint. But what everyone has in common is that no matter how they grieve, they share a need for their grief to be witnessed. That doesn’t mean needing someone to try to lessen it or reframe it for them. The need is for someone to be fully present to the magnitude of their loss without trying to point out the silver lining." - David Kessler
> 
> If you guys liked it leave a comment. They make my day! Seriously I love reading them so please leave me one cause they motivate me to write more! if you guys have ideas for other stories send me an ask on tumblr [here](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/imadetheline) or just yell about stuff with me. Info about me and all my other tumblrs are [here](https://infoabtmaddie.carrd.co/#)


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